


An Arrangement Between Friends

by paradiamond



Series: Between Mary and Anna [2]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Colonial Lesbians part 2, F/F, Mary POV, Season 2, can’t stop won’t stop, it’s very gay this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7357342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradiamond/pseuds/paradiamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary isn’t done with Anna Strong yet, and sometimes wonders if she ever will be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Arrangement Between Friends

The ceilings in Anna Strong’s room at the tavern are better than the ones Mary had on the farm with Abe. The ones at Strong Manor are even nicer, but not as fine as the ones in the big house she lives in now. It’s a silly thing to think of given the circumstances, but Mary remembers feeling acutely jealous and then ashamed of herself over Anna’s nice house, back when she used to feel shame. 

There’s nothing left of that shame now, nothing left of who Mary used to be. She doesn’t see the pitying glances of the ladies that attend their embroidery sessions, doesn’t hear the jeers of the lower ranking soldiers, doesn’t feel the cold space in the bed where he husband used to be. All she can feel now is Anna, pressed up against her back, hot and firm as Mary leans against her for support.

“Oh-” Mary gasps, and Anna puts her one unoccupied hand over her mouth, silencing her. She had done it before, under much different circumstances, but this time Mary appreciates it. 

“Hush now,” Anna whispers, though her voice is strained with the tension of her own desire. Mary has her eyes closed, but by now she has enough practice at this that she can picture Anna’s expression, her flushed face and hair wild around her shoulders. She nearly always takes her hair down before she even kisses Mary. Now she has one arm wrapped around her mouth and the other inside her. 

“Anna, please,” Mary whimpers under her hand, barely comprehensible, but Anna understands and increases the speed of her fingers, curling them inside her. They had done it this way before, the very first time, but then their positions had been reversed. Anna had been the one to suggest the switch, crawling over Mary’s body until she was the only thing she could see and whispering in her ear. Mary’s breath, already stifled by Anna’s hand, goes even more ragged, and the combination makes her light headed. It’s a heady, overwhelming feeling. 

“Come on,” Anna says, leaning forward to kiss Mary on her neck, then biting down lightly. She’s always so bold when she has her like this. Mary feels her inner muscles clench. “Let go for me.” 

Mary moves her hips to Anna’s rhythm, letting herself fall away into the feeling. She must be making quite a spectacle of herself, knees bent, legs spread, but no one else can see her. No one else matters. They hadn’t bothered with undressing all the way. It takes too long, and they need to be fast in order to avoid suspicion. When Mary slipped inside Anna’s room today, Anna was already dressed down, only wearing a simple dress and stockings, but Mary was dressed for travel. 

There are no pretenses between them, not anymore, so Mary went straight to the bed and began pulling off layers to reveal the most essential parts of herself for Anna, who loves to help in the process. Most of the time she gets in the way, but Mary doesn’t try to stop her. She loves the feeling of Anna sliding her stocking off her legs. Loves the way she looks kneeling in front of her, an open expression of concentration and want on her face. 

Once freed, they had fallen into each other, kissing and sliding hands over bare skin, and slipping under clothes when necessary. 

Mary is more delicately made than Anna. Smaller, with bird-like features that don’t quite match with Anna’s more supple form. As always, she can’t help but compare them in her mind. Can’t help but judge the difference when she cups Anna’s breast and hears her sigh. She somehow doubts that Anna does the same even if she can hardly believe it. It wouldn’t fit with her personality, focused as she is on goal instead of the process. 

Anna applies that focus to Mary’s neck, running her lips from the cradle of her collarbone to the space right behind her ear. She never bites down or presses to hard, they’re both too smart for that. They save roughness and squeezing fingers for more private places. 

Arching her back into the feeling, Mary pushes back against her weight, balancing them out. It’s always amazing to her, how well they fit. They slide and lock together and come apart again in a way that only women can, Mary is sure of it. Anna’s hands fit perfectly in the space under her ribs, and Mary can lie up against her back and mold with every curve in a way that men, straight up and down as they are, simply can’t. It’s irrationally pleasing to Mary to find a new way they fit together every time. 

Today, she hitches Anna’s leg up and around her waist, and slides her hand along the inner skin of her thigh. Anna lets her eyes drift shut and shifts forward slightly, wrapping her leg fully around Mary, their lines matching perfectly. Mary smiles and stops teasing. She slides two fingers into Anna, turning her hand so she can circle her most sensitive spot with her thumb at the same time. Gratifyingly, Anna sinks back onto her elbows and gasps. 

Mary leans forward to adjust her position, curling her fingers up to make Anna moan softly. The sound make her smile, and the change in Anna’s breathing lets Mary know what she doing right, when to pick up the pace and when to slow down, to draw it out. She can feel her muscles flex and release, just like Mary’s own but somehow a completely different sensation. When she comes, Anna’s throws her head back and her hands fist the sheets on the bed, twisting up the fabric. Mary slides her free hand over to grasp one of Anna’s shaking ones, and Anna uses the opportunity to pull Mary down, spilling her over and on top of her. 

Mary giggles as she falls, riding the second hand high of Anna’s pleasure all the way down to her, though her own skin is still humming with unrealized desire. “Good?” 

Anna hums into her ear, leaving their hands wrapped together. “Always.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Mary teases, even though it’s true and Anna knows it. She know more about Mary than she is strictly comfortable with, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. From the moment Mary struck Anna Strong and then kissed her, they were tied together in a way Mary has never been before. It’s dizzying, but they’ve come too far for anything else. 

In time, Anna sits up fully once again and presses her lips against Mary’s ear. “Turn around.” 

Shivering, Mary complies. What follows is at once shockingly familiar and inherently different from the many other times they had lain together, even in this particular bed. Anna takes Mary apart, puts her back together again. Mary shakes, and shakes and shakes until she only shivering in Anna’s arms, now wrapped around her back. 

Mary turns her face into the crook of Anna’s neck and breathes in. It’s so easy for her to be close and comfortable in the aftermath, like it seems to be easy for Anna all the time. Knowing that real life will drive them apart soon enough does nothing to dampen Mary’s mood, at least not while their breath is still slowing down and sweat rolls down to the base of Mary’s spine. Anna strokes the back of her neck, which is nice, for now. Knowing that her mood will sour doesn’t sour it ahead of time. Knowing that she has to go back out into the world and face all the horrible and cowardly people in it doesn’t stop her from enjoying Anna Strong in the moment. 

Minutes or hours later, Anna is sitting at the vanity, fixing her hair. Mary watches her from the other side of the room, still straightening her clothes. Of course, Anna catches her starring in the mirror and gives her a heated look. Blushing, even after everything they’ve done, Mary looks away, focusing on tying up the laces on her dress. It’s difficult, but Mary had long gotten used to doing these things by herself. 

“Could you help me with my hair?” Anna calls out, and she’s smiling, faking innocence. The hair in question is tumbling down her back in a graceful wave. “I fear I need some help.” 

Mary gives her a side eyed glance, unamused at being played with, but comes to her anyway. She’ll take nearly any excuse to play with the other woman’s hair, and Anna knows it. Knows what Mary had always tried to hide, though she’ll be damned before she goes down without a fight.

She’s probably damned anyway, truth be told. 

“Of course,” she says sweetly, coming to stand directly behind her and taking the brush from her hand. “After all it is such a mess all the time, it must be difficult to maintain.” 

Anna laughs, clearly not offended. “At least I have enough to get excited about. Yours is so thin,” she teases, and Mary sends her a sharp glare, giving her hair a harder tug than is strictly necessary. 

Anna winces, her hand flying halfway up to her temple before stopping in mid-air. “Oh stop, I’m only teasing. Your hair is very nice.” 

“I am aware of that.” Mary rolls her eyes and starts gathering Anna’s hair up into a bun. “But you don’t have to treat me like a child.” 

Her husband already does that enough for the both of them, she thinks but doesn’t say. The husband _you_ wanted. Mary keeps her expression neutral enough, and focuses on her precise movements. She used to do her sister’s hair nearly every day, and her mother’s. All that practice wasn’t for nothing, apparently, but Mary is fairly sure she had never pictured this particular situation when she was a girl. 

Anna smirks, her face a little too mocking in the mirror. “Don’t I?” 

In response, Mary tightens her grip on Anna’s hair to almost the point of pain. Anna barely shows it except for a slight tightening around her eyes, though this time her hand makes it all the way to her head, fingers rubbing at her hairline. “Alright, Mary. _Alright._ ” 

Mary lets go entirely, letting the dark mass fall again. “I’m not the one,” she lets her other hand run from Anna’s shoulder, across her back, and up through the back of her hair, rubbing her scalp. “Who claims to be incapable of doing her own hair.” She tightens her hold, pulling Anna’s head back to expose her throat. 

Anna’s breathing picks up, and an interested look passes into her eye, so Mary lets go again. Ignoring Anna’s huff of complaint, she walks away, back to the bed. Anna watches her go, hand still pressed to her head and frowning. “You know, you have a terrible habit of taking things to heart that were meant lightly,” she says, keeping her tone upbeat as she picks the brush back up. 

“And you don’t think before you speak,” Mary answers, irritated. Anna always wants to keep things easy between them. As if she ever could. Taking a deliberate breath, Mary sets herself primly on the edge of the bed, hands crossed over knees. “Let’s not fight now, we have more matters to discuss. How are things going with the Major?” 

“Major Hewlett? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Anna feigns surprise, but she keeps her eyes fixed on her own face in the mirror, deliberately avoiding Mary’s gaze. 

“You don’t have to be that way with me,” Mary chastises, pulling on her left shoe and casting a glance about the room for the other. “Everyone has noticed. Frankly I’m surprised he hasn’t proposed already.” 

Anna presses her lips in a hard line, her knuckles going white on the brush handle. Mary’s eyebrows fly up, and Anna glances up furtively. “He hasn’t!” 

“It certainly seems like he did something,” Mary responds dryly, her feelings decided only in that they are mixed. For one she’s feeling unexpectedly vicious. She imagines Anna placidly lying beneath him in the dark to fulfill her wifely duties, silently and politely waiting on him to finish so she can go to sleep. He’ll be genuine, but unskilled. Even if he learns, he won’t be able to give Anna what she wants, not really, not the way Mary does. But such is the way of the world. Her marriage bed with Abe has not been exactly pleasant either. At the same time she feels grateful, and happy, and hope. It’s confusing to say the least, so Mary pushes it all to the side. 

Anna shakes her head. “All he did was invite me to your party and offer to help me.” 

Mary nods at her. “With?”

She visibly hesitates. “A divorce.” 

“Anna!” Mary exclaims, her mind racing with the possibilities, fixating on the positive now. If Anna marries the major, she’ll be close to him, able to monitor his actions and keep the ring safe from suspicion. Every step closer to him is a step towards safety for the two of them. She claps her hands together. “This is news, why didn’t you tell me?” 

Anna shrugs, casting her eyes downward. “It didn’t seem…”

“Important?” Mary challenges, her tone sharp. When Anna doesn’t respond, she shakes her head. “If you want to maintain your position-”

Anna rolls her eyes. “I know that. It’s just, I don’t know.” 

Mary studies her, beautiful, lost, fierce. Trapped. “Yes, you do know. It’s beneath you, but you need to pursue this relationship with him, if only to help yourself.” 

Anna straightens her shoulders. “It’s for the cause.” 

“Yes, and while it is possible the information you pass to Abe for the rebels is going to lead to them winning the war, the British might also find out and kill you, or the rebels might simply lose the war. In that case, you still have Hewlett,” Mary says dispassionately, trying to think through each possibility in turn, and sees Anna’s eyebrows shoot up. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. “You face three paths, Anna, and two of them are secure. That’s more than most can say in these times.”

Silence descends on the room. Mary watches Anna as she stares off into nothing, still as well as silent. She sneaks a glance at the window, trying to guess the time. She should leave sooner rather than later, but she’s loath to leave Anna alone now. It had been happening more and more recently, ever since they started their special friendship. Mary doesn’t want to go. She will, eventually, but she would prefer not to. Especially not now, when Anna needs her guidance. She has trouble with this kind of thinking, but in the end she’s capable of the behavior. 

Mary understands Anna’s position. Men have always wanted her, they see things in her, they see what they want to see. She was the dutiful wife for Selah, an object to be possessed and protected for Simcoe, a symbol of bravery and honor for Hewlett, and the method of rebellion for Abe. But Mary understands her, maybe she’s the only one who can.

Mary considers that the real problem is that Anna actually likes Hewlett as a person. He’s not a bad man. It was so easy for her to hate Simcoe, and to see him as the face of their royal oppressors, taking what they want with no concern for their wants and wishes, but Hewlett is no monster. 

She wonders, if the Crown wins and Hewlett either takes her away to England with him or leaves her there, if she can live with herself. In truth Mary knows that she can. She can do it with no real hesitation at all. If the continental army wins, Anna will face him and own up to everything. If not, she can live with it. Survival is in her nature as much as it is in Mary’s 

Eventually, Anna shifts in her seat and sighs. “Sometimes I makes myself sick.”

“I know,” Mary responds without hesitation. 

Anna looks over at her sharply, apparently broken out of her trance. “Pardon?”

They had mostly left the ragged and tired part of their relationship behind, but sometimes it comes creeping back up like the high tide, lapping at their ankles. Mary sighs and pats the bed beside her. “Come here.” 

It takes a moment, but then Anna moves, settling herself down next to her. They’re not touching yet, but they might as well be for how aware they are of each other. Mary takes her hand. “I don’t blame her for what you’re doing. Tomorrow I’m going to tell Hewlett that I have long forgiven you for any involvement you may have had with Abe, and that they we have all talked about it at length. I will tell him that Anna Strong is a true and virtuous woman. He wants to believe these things about you and so he will. It’s not true, but that is what I will say.” 

Anna shakes her head. “Why?”

“Because we need to stay together,” Mary answers simply. It’s simple to her at the very least. “Despite all we’ve done to each other, it’s nothing compared to what others will do.” 

“You’ve never done anything to me.” Anna sighs and leans in, pressing her weight against Mary, putting her head on Mary’s shoulder. She smells a little like sweat from exertion and Mary wonders if that’s true at all. She did this to her, didn’t she? 

“I could,” Mary responds carefully, drawing small circles on her skin with her fingertips. “I might still.” 

She can feel Anna smile against her shoulder, even through the fabric of her dress. “I doubt it,” then she frowns. “I’m not usually like this, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Weak. I’m not usually this weak around other people.” 

“Well of course not.” Mary widens the little circles on Anna’s hand with her thumb, making them caresses. “We’re the same.” 

“Not even with my husband,” Anna says, and tenses, even though she was the one to bring it up. “I think you might be right, that Hewlett wants to marry me. I was the perfect wife for Selah. I don’t think I can do it again.” 

Mary hums absently and then stands to give her some space with her thoughts. She doesn’t comment on Anna’s assertions of perfection. Their marriage hadn’t seemed that way to her, more like two people who happened to share the same house and livelihood, but she never made a habit of spending a lot of time with either of them before very recently. If there’s one thing she had learned about Anna over the past months, it’s that she is very good at picking up on detail, as long as it’s concerning things outside of herself, but is exceedingly bad at being aware of her own life and circumstances. 

She drifts over to the vanity that Anna had been sitting at to run her fingers over the wood and give Anna more time to say what she needs to say. Mary takes stock of all the little things covering the surface. Pins, small scraps of fabric, a sewing needle. Pieces of Anna’s everyday life. Behind her, Anna stays quiet, and when Mary looks up into the mirror she sees Anna watching her with quiet interest. Their eyes meet and Anna raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Who has Thomas today?” Anna asks, but cautiously, as though Mary might run out of the room at the very mention of her son. Not that Mary can really blame her. 

Mary sends a slight smile that Anna gratefully returns. “He is with his grandfather for now.” 

“You seem...” Anna says, and then seems to think better of it. “I mean-” 

“Calmer?” Mary arches an eyebrow in Anna’s direction. “I am.” 

Anna ducks her head. “Well you had every reason to be fearful before.” 

Mary sighs and walks over to sit back down on the bed beside her. “I still do, but the most dangerous time has passed for us.” 

“As long as we stay protected.” 

“As long as Abraham stays smart, yes.” 

“What about me?” Anna asks, clearly teasing to try to lighten the mood, again. 

Mary looks up and meets her eyes. “I don’t worry about you, Anna.” 

Anna’s eyes widen, and a blush comes over her cheeks. Before Mary can say anything else, Anna is leaning forward, catching her, pulling her in. They kiss, but it’s slow, unhurried without the explicit expectation of more. Anna brings her hand up from Mary’s shoulder to cup her face, and Mary feel heat blossom under her touch. It serves to remind her that they don’t usually do this, kissing for the simple sake of doing so. It feels somehow more intimate than the things they had already done in the afternoon. 

When Anna wraps her arm around Mary’s waist to tug her closer, tighter in her embrace, Mary sighs. Though it’s obviously a ridiculous sentiment, Mary feels more exposed to Anna now than she did when Anna had her on her back. Maybe because Mary has had her that way many times before, but this particular closeness feels new. 

Anna runs her tongue along the seam of Mary’s lips, making her heart jump. Once, when she was a little girl, Mary broke her only china doll on purpose because she was mad at her mother. The pieces scattered all over the floor of her room and went everywhere, and no matter how much her mother yelled, the doll could never be put back together. Opening her mouth for Anna feels exactly the same as throwing that doll to the floor and watching it break. It’s intensely gratifying, but she feels her stomach drop from fear in the same moment, as though watching herself from afar. 

Anna makes the fear go away just as easily as she brings it. Hands slips from Mary’s waist and from the back of her neck, and she knows that Anna, blind but then far too perceptive at the worst of times, is pulling away. Mary leans forward in the last moment, stealing another few seconds so that when Anna backs up all the way she’s smiling. 

“What’s wrong?” Anna’s eyes bore into hers, open and soft. Then she smirks. “Shy?” 

Mary feels her face heat further, likely confirming Anna’s incorrect assertion. “It’s hot in here.” 

Anna’s eyes drop to the line of Mary’s dress. “Yes, it is.” 

Shaking her head, Mary looks away. She does it in part because she’s annoyed and in part because she can’t stand to look into Anna Strong’s eyes anymore. But Anna catches her hand. 

“Mary-”

“You talk so much,” Mary says, turning back around and using Anna’s hand to push herself up. Looking down at Anna is easier than breathing the same air, but Anna keeps her hand tight in her own, fingers trailing along her exposed wrist. 

“Well, you don’t talk nearly enough,” Anna says, very quietly. 

Mary huffs and shifts forward, climbing straight into Anna’s lap, one leg hooked over either side of her thighs. Anna jerks back reflexively, eyes wide, but then seems to realize what Mary is doing and relaxes. She releases Mary’s hands so she can wind hers around Mary’s back, holding her closer. Mary allows it, finding that she wants to be as close as she can get. 

She tips Anna’s chin up with up finger, positioning her just as she pleases, and kisses her. Anna hums and kisses her back, turning her head to the side so they fit perfectly together once again. Possessed by the same feeling that led her to start this in the first place, Mary deepens the kiss first this time, slides their tongues together and then pulls back so that their lips touch again. Mary sighs. Anna’s eyes slide shut and her hands moves from Mary’s back to her shoulders, to her neck. 

Mary pulls back far enough to get Anna to look at her. “Just don’t touch my hair, I’ve already finished with it.” 

Anna turns her head into Mary’s neck and smiles against her skin. “I won’t.”

Ignoring her giggles, Mary shifts further into her arms, burrowing like a creature into a safe place. Anna’s grip tightens around her, and Mary feels her turn her face further into her neck. It’s warm, but fear always finds its way in. She inhales sharply. 

“Are we going to be alright?” Mary asks, almost a whisper. 

Anna leans away just far enough and smiles. Leans back in and kisses her on the cheek, the gesture oddly innocent, but effective. Mary is already relaxing in her arms again, the two of them wrapped up in each other like children, when Anna answers her. 

“Of course.”


End file.
